Signal to be brought into a local area and that cuts out the local communities commerce. Where do you sell your chevy when you talk about chevies in los angeles and you happen to live in buffalo, new york . We think the local stations should be sported. We want people to view it and we are working with the nfl to preserve this and allow them to work it out in a market way without the Congress Taking an approach that ultimately damages local television and economies and we dont think that is good. Host and i want to close with the opinion on the aereo case and the closing lines that were we remand the case for further proceedings consistent with this opinion. Are there other cases out there . Guest i believe there is one before the 9th Circuit Court of appeals called aereo killer and i think they put a stay on that pending what the Supreme Court decided. There maybe new things coming along but this decision really reenthrones the principle of copyright as it relates to telecommunication. Host there is new technology coming. Guest all of time. If they can operate lawfully, consistent with the constitution, we are all for it. Host gordon smith, president and ceo of the National Broadcasters and monty tayloe with communication daily. Gentlemen, thank you. Our special booktv programming includes three books about soldiers running from war beginning with ron capps on seriously not allright five wars in ten years in a little more than an hour phil clay talks about his book redeployment and in two hours a panel of authors at the los angeles book festival discuss the realities of war. Hilary clinton sat down to discuss her new book hard choices. Getting to the point where you make peace isnt easy because you dont make peace with friends. You make it with advisaries and you have to get into the head of those on the other side and you have to change their calculation enough to get them to the table. Talking about iran, we had to put a lot of economic pressure to get them to the table and we will see what happens but that has to be the first step. And i write about what why did in afghanistan and pakistan trying to get the taliban to the table for a decision with the government of afghanistan. Well, in iraq today, i think, what we have to understand that is primarily a political problem that has to be addressed. The ascension of the sunni extremist and socalled isis group is taking advantage of the breakdown in political dialogue and the total lack of trust between the maliki government, the sunni leader and the kurdish leaders. More with Hilary Clinton on surveillance Transparency Act s saturday and sunday. Ron capps is the funder of the veterans writing project. He talked about his book seriously not allright five wars in ten years. This is a little more than an hour. Hi, folks. Welcome to the half king tonight. It is a pleasure to see so many of you here. We are thrilled to be welcoming ron capps here. I would like to thank Scott Manning and the shackner press for having the wisdom to publish a wonderful book. I know a lot of you know ron personally but for those of you who are not as familiar with him rons bio reads like one of the more interesting novels of all time and we are lucky to have it captured here. He served as senior military office and u. S. Observer of state and he is a combat veteran of afghanistan serving in the army and army reserve for 25 years. Entered as a private and retired at a lieutenant colonel. He served in rwanda, coast, iraq, and the darfer region of sudan. He was awarded the medal of service and received awards from the American Service association. His policy writing has appeared everywhere there is to mention and he is the founder of a nonprofit that provides no cost writing workshops for veterans and their families. We are thrilled to welcome here to share his memoir seriously not allright five wars in ten years. Welcome, ron capps thank you. I cannot tell you how thrilled i am to be here. This is the hard launch of the book. The first night. Big event. Had press today and some of you, i know, heard that press and thank you for coming. Some of you i have known for too long to mention and it means much too you here. We have cspan2 and booktv is here. I will talk, tell stories, read and then we will take questions and michael and james are going to move around with the microphone. So if you have a question, just let them know r. There is two stories in the book. If you have read it, at the very beginning i tell the story of driving off in the desert with a couple beers in my truck and a pistol when i was getting ready to kill myself. Obviously something happened and i didnt get to do that. That is the Central Point of the story and where everything changes. So the first half of the story is how i got there and the second half is what happened afterwards. I think the second half of the story is more interesting for hopeful but it doesnt make sense without telling the first half of the story. What i will do is read from a couple sections. Afterwards, i served as a soldier for 25 years. Half of the time i was in the regular army and half in the army reserve. During the time in the army reserve, my civilian job was as a Foreign Service officer for the department of state. I was a political officer and got sent to a lot of interesting places. The first half of my career i tell meme people it was dull, i never did anything interesting or got shot at. It was a peace time. Then i joined the Foreign Services and went to places where they shoot at people regularly and things got interesting. This begins in 1996 and runs through 2006. Those are the ten years i was e deploying. Starting with a story in kosovo in 2008. I worked as part of team of diplomatic observers. Our job was to drive around kosovo and stop the fighting and get the rebels to stop killing each other and civilians. We arrived in cynic a day too late. The infintry came through the day before and this is what we found. It is part of an essay i wrote that was published called yellow and now it is a chapter in the book. Let me get started with that. Yellow. Their skin was yellow. They had dirt under their fingernails and feet were dirty. Six of them, all women, some lived long enough to have the wounds banned up before they died and some were killed right away. They were dead about 24 hours. We came to witness the funeral and stand a type of guard. If we were present the snipers wouldnt shoot at the family members as they buried their dead. It was the first time i saw war dead. I remember being surprised their skin was yellow. My experiences with death before that was a few funerals a. Friends older brother, my grandmother. None of them were yellow. I was surprised. This was the first time i saw what dead people looked like if no embombing was done or what makeup and a nice suit of clothes. They were just dead. Lying in a tangle of limbs under a blue u. N. Tarp on a trailer that carried food the week before. I could not see all of their faces. One had an arm resting across her forehead and one had a bangladesh ban dade on her head. We saw dogs up the trail. The agency field officer who led us to the scene said what all of us were thinking. The dogs probably got the body of the 18monthold who was m missing. The mother was resting in the house with a bullet in her upper arm, passed through her baby, through her breast and lodged in her arm. The father said the child was killed instantly. The bullet tore the child in half. A doctor from the red cross was treating the mothers wound. There were ten women and a 72yearold man in one airless room of the house. All of them had been wounded in the attack. They sat silently on the floor, backs against the walls of the room, lost in their pain and thoughts, waiting. We did this pretty much every day for two years. Driving around kosovo trying to stop fighting. Almost always arriving a day late. Just in time to conduct investigation of a war crime. A crime against humanity. Ethnic clensing and murder. I would write reports about what i saw and i would go back and sit and write dry reports about horrible acts of cruelty. But i knew this wasnt enough. I knew i needed to document more. I would go home then to my room or to my tent and sit down and write the test of what happened. And those sessions of writing grew into this book so what i wrote about that event i sat down and typed out the words yellow, their skin was yellow and that is where we are. That day we were up in a small valley, a little draw between two ridge lines, and the infantry swept through and fired in front of them, clearing thing path and coming through with infantry. They were shooting at women, children and old men who were driven out of the town by mortars in the day prior. They moved up into this valley to be save and then the infantry came through. We drove back into the town and this is what happened. The villagers wanted to bury their dead in plain sight and we could see the snipers. The land, they said, was taken in the 1940s. They reclaimed it in the 1970s. It belonged to these people and they were going to be sure they understood that. The woman they killed spent their lives growing the fields and giving birth to their children. We parked our vehicles to stop the shooting. Certainly they would not shoot at the white and blue vehicle. But i was shaky sitting around. The ground was hard, it took time to bury the dead. The men works with shovels and picks to dig graves for the women. We stopped on the way out and used our satellite telephone to call washington and tell the state department what we saw. It seemed far away from the hill side but the officer on the other line was a friend, colleague, and classmate. Had it been somewhere else i might have been more animated in the description, but doug understood what was happening without resorting to being hysteric. Six women and one child dead. Yes, i counted them. Yes, we are sure they were dead. I verify it. We made a stop off the hill where an old man flagged us down and wanted to show us something the serbs did. I glanced through the house and saw a group of women on the floor, rocking and surrounding the body of another woman. She was laid out on her back and wrapped in a blanket. Part of her face and head were missing and what remained was vealed in a colorful scarf. The man said a meter exploded near her body and he held out his hand to show the distant. He was the dead womans father. Having felt safe enough to remain with husband and children rather than moving up to the draw with the others, she decided to make food up to her neighbors. She was at the base of the draw when the attack started. The mortar shells probably came in groups of three. Punk, punk, punk as the rounds left the tubes is then the breathless agonizing 56 seconds while they flew and then the final barking and echoes off the walls of the cannon as they exploded. They probably set the fuses to go off one or one and a half meters above the ground. About head high. It was an awful story and i could not wait to get away from the smell, crying and death. I felt outraged and horrified soldiers fired mortars at women and children. I focused on her scarf colors rather than the wounds. I watched the woman rocking her and looked at the womans father. I took notes about what the father said. Then we left. Eight dead. Down the hill at the intersection marking the proper a crowd of women and a few men gathered. Boys were filled with boxes filled with cigarettes, crackers and chicklets. They sat expressionless as a small crowd swarmed the vehicle. I pushed own the door and was pinned up against the vehicle. One woman pushed through the crowd and held her baby at arms length. I was face to face with the child while the mother spoke. She wants you to take your son so the serbs wont kill her. I looked at the woman and said to mimi say this, we are observers we cannot we locate you or your son. If we do we will all be ordered out of the country. I felt feckless as the words spilled out. For the first time i understood the follow of observing. A tourist among the victims. It was hot and with the son beating down on me i felt c coweredly. I thought the red cross would refuse but i wasnt able to muster the courage to tell the woman and others around me there was little hope she would get out. I found out i was wrong. Several officer s arrived and oe of them took several children. I had to tell the mother of the missing child we didnt find her baby. It would serve no purpose to tell her what we thought happened. I could not find those words anyway. That evening after returning to the office, i drafted by report that was three pages long. Just things we understood happen based on what we saw and what was reported. I said it appeared a serbian unit swept from north to south proceeded by a burage of fire and seven women and one infant were killed and 11 others wounded including a 72yearold man. Vehicles, clothes, food and other supplies were burned. No evidence of weapons or insurgeant active among the villages. I didnt mention the funerals, dogs or the woman begging me to take action to save her child. I didnt mention the look on the old mans face. I listened to what was told to us with what we saw ourselves. I made the people in the village the center of the report rather than my own actions. I let my teammates read the repo report. I had documented a war crime. The war went on for a number of months. We stayed until the Bombing Campaign began. And we went out into masdonia and spent the three months and a few days interviewing refugees and people loaded out on to trains and shipped across borders in europe at the end of the 20th century. We did go back and kosovo is now an independent nation. Some of work we did was sent to the hague and used to document the case against them and i feel good about that. There is a special place in hell for people like that. I went back to kosovo and spent another year and returned to Central Africa where i spent a couple years prior and worked in rwanda for two years during the war that was fought as an ex tension of the genocide. We documented war crimes and went through fighting with rwandan military. The United States was attack and i was called back into the regular army to go to afghanistan. I arrived in afghanistan not quite a year after the rangers jumped in. I showed up as a reservist not knowing what to expect. They didnt know me and i didnt know them. I was in charge of a couple hundred people that were spread out all over the country. I was tasked to send them off to do interesting and dangerous things. I came to understand i was suffering from ptsd. I had images of the dead from rwanda and kosovo coming. I would wake up at night and see dead people standing around my cot. When this happened during the day, i understood where was in trouble. This is what that was like. In the cold predawn, i can hear generators and vehicles moving on the other side of the base. But it is quite in my tent. None of the other soldiers i share the tent with are storing. I have been awake but i stay fighting the overwhelming urge to run away. The taliban launched a couple rockets near the base so we are on edge but that is not what is keeping me up. I am trying to control my racing hard and trembling because the dead have come to talk to me. They have been coming every night pulling me from a sleep into a series of wide awake dreams. Tonight it is the dead who were burned bible black and twisted into hideous shapes. They lie in the cold rain that falls through the burned away roof. Do you remember us, they asked . Most assuredly. The night before it was the dead from a village of 45 shot in the head and left to die in a rocky ditch. They dropped by for a chat. Why didnt you do more to save us, they asked . Why indeed . Night after night they appear on the big screen of my mind. Night after night the murdered and mutilated come back and each time i am scared and ashamed. I know they are not real and images in my head but i fear them no less for knowing this. They terrify me for what they remind me of the fighting i didnt stop and the lives i didnt safe. They terrify me for what i represent. I can no longer stop them from taking control. I lie on my bed eyes wideo open and see the dead in front of me. The trouble begins over time and by the time i am aware of it i am having graphic violent dreams, waking shaking, heart racing, crying sometimes, always afraid to go back to sleep. I am loosing control of my brain, of my mind. In time, i start seeing these images when i am awake. During the day i am unable to focus and i sit at my desk and go to planning meeting, shaking until i have to leave and go outside. I fear i lost my mind but i am afraid to ask for help thinking i will be ridiculed. You see in the army culture asking for help is a sign of weakness. My medals and special operation units, nothing matters, asking for help is seen as breaking but with when in the middle of the day i am forced to hide, shaking and crying in a bunker, when i realize to deny this would endanger the soldiers i was asked to help. I asked for help. I told someone i was having problems, explained by symptoms, he listened, reached out, put his hand on my arm and said are you a danger to yourself or others . Which is a question you get asked a lot when people think you are crazy. They look at you with an m4 over your shoulder or 9millimeter on your hip and ask if you will start shooting. I said i wasnt a danger, but i knew i needed help so i went to see the psych that day and they are trying to keep the tv on so you cannot hear the stories of the people coming through the front. I brought my soldiers home. I was home for four months and then deployed until iraq. Spent time in iraq, came home and while in iraq, i got a phone call from a friend that said you are about to be mobilized again and sent to iraq which was i thought delicious irony being in iraq with the state department when the army calls. I began arguing as much as one can. And it got to the point if you volunteer to come back so you dont have to be mobilized you get your choice of assignments. And that means different things. This meant the democratic republic of congo or sudan. Well i was an africanist and i chose sudan. I had never been there. I volunteered and went there just after colin powell said it was genocide. 2. 5 million displaced and 3 million dead and i was sent in into the African Unions cease fire commission. Our job was to stop the fighting. We had about 1700 people in an area larger than iraq. The place the size of france. Among people who dont want to stop fighting. They are not tired of killing each other. I spent nine months there. Got a phone call from my wife that said your mom went into the hospital and the doctor says come home. I went home and spent a month sitting by my moms bedside while she died. That was tuesday. Wednesday i went to get a suit for her funeral, lunch at the whitehouse on thursday, and frid